Doomed Days of the Falling Snow
by vampiredveela
Summary: A short epilogue to The Outsiders. Focus is around Ponyboy and his thoughts. It begins a few days after the end of the novel. Oneshot.


A/N I wrote this piece as an English assignment. The assignment was to write and epilogue to _The _Outsiders. My friends convinced me to post it up for you guys to read. I hope you enjoy it and please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own _The Outsiders _nor any of the characters mentioned.

* * *

_Doomed Days of the Falling Snow_

I thought it was all finally over. When I'd open my eyes ever thing would be dark, dark. 3…2… 1. If you would have been able to see my eyes they would have been flitting all over the place looking for the tiniest bouncing beam of light. I rolled over, which must have been a little to far cause the next thing I knew I was on the floor gasping for air.

"Today's the day," I finally said aloud for anyone to hear, but who would want to listen to a fourteen year old kid that just lost two of his buds? Not me.

"Ponyboy you up yet?" Darry hollered from the kitchen. I groaned a yes back. I'd being sleeping real rough since Johnny's death. I miss him bad. There's not much to do when your best friend dies… because of you.

"Hurry and get a moving Pony. Don't wanna get stuck in the back of the funeral home." Soda called to me from the doorframe. Lord could he be loud in the mornings.

I dragged myself out bed and stumbled after Soda into the living room, still in the jeans and shirt from the days before. I hadn't bothered to change for the past couple days. These clothes carried memories of them, memories I didn't want to let go.

The couch seemed to sag less than normal under the weight of its two occupants. Two-bit hung restlessly on the edge while Steve fidgeted next to him. Soda took his place beside Steve. Usually the whole room would be full of back flips and bouncy laughs, but today wasn't that kind of day. Today was the day. The whole air to the room was stiff and solemn. It had been like that for the past two days.

"Hey Ponyboy," Two-bit grinned softly at me. It wasn't his usually full faced, ear to ear grin, more like a half hearted smile. Today wasn't the day for witty remarks and cheap laughs.

"You cleaned up Pony? I set you out some clean clothes in the bathroom." Darry called from the kitchen. Without even bothering to reply I made my way to the bathroom to take the first few steps in starting this grievous day.

* * *

We took are steps slowly behind the coffin carriers as we made our way of to the spot. This was it, my finally chances to say goodbye. Be tuff Pony, be tuff. Don't start crying. So much was just going through my mind. I couldn't even gather a single thought. Darry placed an arm around my shoulder in attempts to comfort me. Nothing could come close to help me with my pain right now.

"Darry, is it ok to feel like there's nothing you can do? Like everything you do is meaningless?"

Darry paused in walking as he took time to put together his reply, "Yea." We continued walking, "I think it is. But just keep telling yourself what your doing does have meaning. It'll be hard at first to keep moving, but it's worth it. Live for both of 'em Pony, live for both of 'em."

We reached the burring grounds by that time and they were just about to lower the coffin into the ground when she called out to him. She called out his name, she cursed, and she wept. She broke down. Soda rushed over to hold up Johnny's mom. None of us could even believe she showed up to her own son's funeral. She treated him like a dog for all his life. She didn't have the right to grieve for him.

" Stop crying! You don't have the right to cry over him. You treated him like a dog for all of his life and it shouldn't have taken his death for you to see that you could have done better. He didn't need you before and he doesn't need you now! Leave."

By this time I was struggling desperately to get out of Darry's grip and just start pounding on Johnny's mom, but Darry did right and held me back. For the first time since both of the deaths, I broke down. I couldn't take it any more. I couldn't take anything. It was all too much, life was too much. I cried right there in front of all those mourners. I didn't care about being tuff, all I cared about was my best friend.

* * *

"I had some wonderful themes for your papers, but one stood out to me particularly. I'm going to read it and if its author doesn't mind I'm not going to change the names in it because after I finish you'll be able to know whose it is any way. So may I?" Mr. Syme addressed the class. He pulled out the theme and I just knew it was mine so I nodded my head in a yes for him to read it. He smiled in thanks.

So it began for the whole world to hear my story, Johnny's story, our story, the greaser story. It was the longest thing I'd ever written, but it needed to be told. Not just for my to get a good grade, but so people know that we are people all the same and we watch the same sunset. I think after Mr. Syme read the last sentence not a chirp came from a single person. As the bell rang the people around me were too shocked to move from their seats. I was for the first time the first one out of class.

* * *

I walked slowly through the falling snow. Johnny never did like the snow. It kept him at his house with his lousy parents. I liked snow. Snow was peacefully and it held serenity I zigzagged my way through the multiples of tombstones until I stumbled across the one that my feet could take me too with me needing to think about it. I had visited this place often since Johnny was put to rest here. It was my thinking place. I thought a lot now days. Mainly about what I would be doing if none of that stuff would have happened that night at the movies. What if we hadn't gone to the movies? Would Johnny still be dead or what about Bob? Bob, the start of it all.

What ifs are endless. If we would have done even the smallest of thing different I might not be the one alive right not. If Johnny hadn't been jumped that night in the lot then he wouldn't have had the blade on him the night we, he killed Bob. But then if he wouldn't of had the knife then we would both be died. Did fate mean for this to happen? Was it my destiny to learn the trials of death at such a young age? If only I had died then Johnny would still be alive and have time to change his life. My life was already gold. He still had time to change. He was cut short. If only. A snowflake fell unto my eyelash. Trapped in a maze of struggle to get free and join its friends before it melted with the heat of tragedy. I gentle blinked it away and watched it finish its journey to join its friends. I would soon fallow that same path.


End file.
